


Occupational Hazard

by KarasuNei



Series: The Road goes ever on and on [5]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blind! Jack, Chaos, Domestic Fluff, Dumb Dads, Fluff, Genji is a Little Shit, Genji is awesome, Humor, Jack and Gabriel being Dads, Jack being difficult, Jesse is precious, Lena ships everyone, M/M, Team as Family, There is Cat, Tsundere! Hanzo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-07-23 14:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7466283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarasuNei/pseuds/KarasuNei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles about the New Overwatch's daily shenanigans. </p><p>When you are a group of secretive vigilantes trying to save the world, life ought to get a little bit interesting...</p><p>(Please read notes)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reyes and Oxton - The Dynamic Duo

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Blizzard owns Overwatch and my soul.
> 
> So this fic will be a collection of ficlets/chapters/small stories that happen in the daily life of our lovely characters. It will be marked as finished, but will be updated as regularly as I can. Each chapter can be read individually. It's connected to the meta of the series I'm writing, but can also be read separately if you don't want to swim through the angst XD. More tags will be added in the future.
> 
> Uh, that's all I can think of now. Please enjoy!

 

* * *

 

                It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this.

 

                It was a simple recon mission, nothing more. Sneak in, gather information, clean trail, sneak out. They even have the special camo gears Winston designed on for fuck’s sake.

 

                But that _supposedly simple recon mission_ turned out to be a full-fledged two-man-and-woman _raid_ , ending with a cliché explosion behind their backs as Tracer zips and Reaper phases away like two stupid-shit-ass bats out of hell. On the _first mission Gabriel is allowed to be in charge of after his treatments_ , too! _Christ_!

 

                At least they wiped all security systems before they blew the place up?

 

                “Jack’s gonna kill me…” Gabriel is only short from smacking his face into the nearest wall, groaning as he rolls his mask up to hide it at the back of his hood. Of fucking course, Oxton giggles.

 

                “That was fun, we need to do that again!” Lena grins, fist pumping in a ridiculous, assumingly incognito trench coat that is way too big for her, “I mean, _suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuure_ , Jack and Winston are prob’ gonna have our heads, but ‘ey, can’t deny it was fun! That was so great not having ‘em supervisin’, don’t chu agree, luv?”

 

                Her excitement makes her accent even thicker and Gabriel rolls his eyes, but he does smirk, “I cannot confirm or deny this, Ms. Oxton.” He says in an accurate attempt to mock Winston’s voice. Tracer’s laughter echoes and bounces on the empty midnight street.

 

                “Besides, Jack’s a _tsundere_ , he might just punch you a couple o’ times, and you’ll be back in da smoochin’ cuddlin’ heaven in no time.” Lena clasps her hands together and makes loud, obnoxious kissing noises that has Gabriel scowling.

 

                “…Stop that before I smashed your face in.”

 

                “Awe…”

 

                Some silence passes as they jogs towards the designated operating destination for the teleporter. It is a handy invention, if Gabriel has to say so himself. Honestly, it’s a stolen technology from the Viskar, from those few rare times they have brushed up with that Corporation. Winston and Ziegler have been tinkering with it, with an occasional help from Torbjörn. Now they have a safe transportation device, something that enables them to travel incognito all over the world without the risk of being traced. The one down side to this is how fucking long the device needs recharging, which brings them here, miles away from the explosion of the secluded Talon outpost, in a forsaken town in Iowa of all places.

 

                “Besides, punching me ain’t gonna work, _chica_.” Gabriel grouses after some time, immediately perking Lena up, “He is now favouring the torture method of _no sex_ , and I very much _dislike_ that.”

 

                A pause, and then Oxton is laughing so hard she doubles over, wheezing, despite Gabriel’s glare, “Sorry, sorry!” She waves her hands haphazardly, though her grin suggests that she is anything but, “But it’s nothing _permanent_ now, ‘ey, love? We all know how Jack is. ‘Side, I’m more worried that you and I won’t ever get placed in the same team ever again ‘cause of this shit. Next time, Winston might pair me up with someone like, _ugh_ , _Zeny_!”

 

                “I thought you like Zenyatta?” Gabriel raises an eyebrow, ignoring Tracer’s nickname for the lovely omnic monk. Lena snorts.

 

                “ _Everybody_ loves Zeny. Zeny is awesome. But he’s so _slooooooooooooooooooooooow_!” She drags out her voice comically, making a dying noise in her throat. Sighing, Gabriel decides not to dignify that with an answer and continues on walking. He has been expecting Tracer to bitch on and on about how slow everybody else is, but not her grabbing his elbow and pulling him to a stop suddenly. Instinct kicks in, and Gabriel immediately swoops down into a crouch, all senses on high alert. His hands automatically flies to the shotguns hidden among the folds of his trademark long coat, ready for any attack coming from any direction. But Lena just sighs.

 

                “We’re not gettin’ shot, love. Look!”

 

                Gabriel very gradually rises from the ground, glaring daggers at the smaller woman, though his eyes follow her pointing finger after a moment, “A gas station.” His voice is flat.

 

                “Yeah!” Sometimes, Oxton’s never-ending enthusiasm really irks him, “Y’know, Winston has this unhealthy obsession with peanut butter, right? And since we’re in bloody Ja-, where our _home_ is, he can’t find his fav’ brand!”

 

                Takes Gabriel three solid seconds to understand what she is talking about. A sly smirk slowly curls up his lips, “Bribery. I like the way you think, Ms. Oxton.”

 

                “And I like the way you like how I think, Mr. Reyes.” Her Cheshire grin is nothing short of mischievous.

 

                So that’s how they found themselves in a gas station in the middle of nowhere and at one A.M. in the morning. The cashier barely lifts his weary gaze up from his crumpled magazine when they entered and Gabriel, being the paranoid asshole he is, has made sure to disrupt the security cam before they stepped inside. It didn’t take long for Tracer to sweep half of the peanut butter jars stacked on the shelf into her basket, and she is currently inspecting the sweets section with the most serious expression that Gabriel has ever seen graced her face. With a long suffering sigh, Gabriel starts gliding up and down the small, cramped aisles, feigning disinterest, even though he is wringing his brain out to think of what the fuck Jack Morrison would like. Even as a former city-boy, Gabriel isn’t stupid. He knows the Midwesterners have this dumb competitive streaks among states in just about everything.

 

                Especially food.

 

                Gabriel finds it kinda ironic and egotistical, not to mention hypocritical, but hey, everyone has their own opinion…He doesn’t want to piss Jack off any further than he already did (depending on how quickly the soldier catches on to the situation anyway) and especially not with something stupid like food of all things. And that also brings Gabriel back to the fact that Jack has never been one for junk food. Which is not great, because naturally everything in a fucking gas station is junk food. With a heaving, grave sigh, Gabriel ends up buying himself a greasy hot dog that would surely have Jack scowling and goes outside to wait for Oxton by the dumpsters, because the woman is completely smitten with the candy aisle and will probably take another hour or so lost in there. Gabriel leans against the wall, somewhat in the shadows and scowling at the hot dog like it has personally offended him somehow.

 

                That is when Gabriel hears _the sound_.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

                “Shut up, Oxton!” Gabriel hisses at the giggling Tracer, gently supporting the bundle of admittedly _sticky garbage_ that he picked up. Ugh, the dry-cleaning bill is going to be hell…

 

                “D’aaaaaw, but honestly, love, I’d never saw this one comin’!!! Jack’s gonna be…”

 

                “Jack’s gonna be _what_ exactly, Lena?”

 

                She immediately clamps her mouth shut, offering the scowling, scarred man and the frowning gorilla scientist behind him a guilty, toothy grin. Gabriel just rolls his eyes. Jack can think he is all intimidating and shit behind that visor, but he ain’t scaring the _big, bad Reaper_.

 

                “Peanut butter?” Lena’s still grinning impossibly bright, shaking the plastic bag (that is tearing in many places because of the weight it is holding and, quite frankly, Gabriel is impressed that it’s still managed to _not_ fall apart) at Winston. Said brilliant scientist pinches the bridge of his nose, pushing up his rectangular glasses in exasperation.

 

                “I am not a child, Lena. You cannot… _trade_ things with me and expect everything to be alright!” Winston chides, though there isn’t much heat behind his words. Jack groans. Gabriel smirks. Jack glowers at him.

 

                “The fuck you’re smirking about, Reyes? You’re in deep shit this time, you hear?! And what the fuck you’re holding???”

 

                “Yeah, about that, _amado_ …” Gabriel marches straight up to Jack, pulls up the soldier’s hand and dumps the pathetic, _mewing_ creature into Jack’s pried-open palm. The soldier’s lower jaw goes slack.

 

                “The fuck, Reyes?!” He hisses, much like Gabriel just did with Tracer, and was about to start shouting at Gabriel at the top of his lungs, when the dirty, ragged kitten begins purring and head-butting against Jack’s chest. Gabriel’s smirk turns into a full-blown, shit-eating grin now as Jack instinctively cradles the creature closer and, judging by the painfully wrinkled lines visible above his visor, Jack is scowling _really_ hard.

 

                 “It smells like garbage.”

 

                “She likes you, _guapo_.” Gabriel’s tone in very nonchalant, despite Oxton’s poorly stifled giggle behind him. He steps up and smacks a loud kiss on the side of Jack’s head, slaps the soldier’s tantalizing ass before strolling with all the swagger he possesses inside the compound, and completely ignores Jack’s profuse strings of profanities and death threats, “She needs a bath and a name, too!”

 

                And that’s how the reformed Overwatch gains a pet. Also how Reaper and Tracer never get to go on a mission together _ever again_. And how Gabriel Reyes didn’t get to have sex for _one whole month_.

 

                _Almost_ worth it.

 

               


	2. Healthy Diet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack wants to try something new. It didn't go as planned.

* * *

 

 

                “Ye’ve gotta be jokin’ me…” Torbjörn’s hidden mouth twists into a disgusted scowl, eyeing the substance before him in disbelief, “Yer jokin’ right???”

 

                Gabriel takes a long, deep inhale, and let it go in one huge huff of exasperation. For once, he is so fucking jealous of Zenyatta and Bastion, who are omnic and don’t need to eat, thus having a viable excuse to _not_ be here. And Brigitte who has more or less blockaded herself in the forge. Smart girl. Judging by the looks on everybody else’s face, they are thinking along the same line as he and the dwarf mechanic are. Angela just seems sadly indulgent. And Jack is infuriatingly patient.

 

                “Perhaps this is too minor to notice, but our diets have been very unstable since we moved here, I figure we should have something healthy for a change. A cleanse, should I say.” Jack smoothly ignores Jesse’s protest of “But Rikimaru’s authentic ramen _is_ healthy!!”

 

                “No offense, Morrison, but shouldn’t you leave zat to our qualified _doctor_ here?” Reinhardt raises a massive muscular arm and points at Angela next to him, who is more or less swallowed by the German’s figure and is looking like she would burst into tears of frustration at any given moment.

 

                “Yes, but Angela has been having a lot on her plate lately, so I step up to the task instead. This is trivial, after all.”

 

                “You are serving us a vegetable slushie.” Hanzo speaks very bluntly and very flatly, his face betrays no emotion, though Gabriel strongly believes the prickly archer is simply trying to forget the existence of the _questionable_ drink before him.

 

                “Well, if you put it that way…”

 

                “Can’t be that bad.” Winston, ever the optimist, bravely picks up his glass much to Jack’s approval nod. Tracer is quick in following his lead.

 

                “You’re one to talk, your diet is practically vegetarian, give or take a few zings.” Reinhardt scoffs, his scarred eyebrow twitching as he peers down at his portion once more, “I trust Morrison vith a gun and in battle, not vith a blender and in ze kitchen.”

 

                “Aye.” Torbjörn snorts, angling his stubby body away from the innocently chilled glass as if it would permanently dye his beard green, “Sor’y, laddie, but this ain’t fer me.”

 

                Jack, who is obviously growing irritated now, turns to look at Gabriel expectantly.

 

                “No.”

 

                “Gabe-“

 

                “No.”

 

                “Fine!”

 

                “It doesn’t taste too bad!” Jack whips his head around so quickly it pops. Winston is grinning at the soldier from across the table, “I quite like it actually.”

 

                Jack’s features (or whatever visible of them anyway) start to relax, but then Lena starts coughing, “Oh.My.God…This is… _pure cucumber_! I can’t-“ She bolts upright and zips towards the fridge, yanks the carton of apple juice out rather forcefully and dumbs a generous amount on top of the vegetable drink, stirs the concoction frantically despite Jack’s heated protests, before taking another sip, “Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…Much better…”

 

                Jesse McCree, badass cowboy gunslinger, vigilante, former member of the notorious Deadlock Gang, gives a very violent _shudder_ , “Nope, I ain’t goin’ anywhere near this shit, partner.” He even pulls out his fucking revolver and very slowly pushes the glass away into the middle of the table. Reinhardt looks disturbed now as Jack downright _snarls_.

 

                “Vat’s zis stuff even made out of???”

 

                Jack’s sigh is less on the impatient note and more leaning towards the _I’m-going-to-shoot-you-all-in-the-face_ edge, “Cucumber.” Lena snorts, “Celery, mint, basil, kale and ginger.”

 

                A long silence stretches. Finally, Hanzo takes one sip of the glass, gives a dainty cough, puts the glass down and pushes it away with one disgusted finger. Jesse is obviously biting the insides of his mouth to prevent himself from laughing.

 

                “Seriously?!”

 

                “Calm your tits, _amado_.” Gabriel rolls his eyes and tugs Jack to sit back down on his goddamned chair, throwing in a kiss on the temple just for good measure. The soldier is both seething and sulking now.

 

                At least Genji is gulping down the substance in stride, still awfully quiet, but the cyborg isn’t gagging. Mei is more or less doing the same thing, muttering under her breath about environmental goodness or some shit. Jack turns his face towards Angela. She holds both of her hands up while Reinhardt immediately goes rigid.

 

                “Sorry, Jack, I know these are very healthy, I really do, but I’m not a fan of vegetable smoothies…” She sounds genuinely apologetic, wincing when Jack let out an annoyed exhale that Gabriel immediately links to a pissed off bull. Takes every ounce of self-control to not shout “El toro!” too…

 

                Standing up slowly, Gabriel clears his throat at all the long, scowling faces, “I’m buying bubble tea for everyone.”

 

                This time, only Hanzo looks disgusted.

 

                “And that’s why Reyes’ my favourite…” Tracer whistles from her perch at the kitchen island.


	3. Of Apple Pies and Spices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denial at its finest.

 

* * *

 

               Sometimes, things can be difficult when you are blind.

 

                Hm…That was a stupid statement.

 

                Jack silently sips his coffee and listens to Gabriel puttering about in the kitchen. At least the visor compensates for it somehow and, since he doesn’t have to wear the mask around the compound, life gets a bit easier.

 

                And more amusing, that’s a definite.

 

                It’s not every day that Gabriel volunteers to cook dinner after all. Usually, they revolve that duty around by the day and by missions, always skipping Jack and Genji because, Jack really doesn’t want to admit this, the former is completely shit with anything to do in the kitchen and the latter always ends up buying them takeaway instead.

 

                But no-one ever asks Gabriel to cook, because the man has never shown any interest about cooking, plus Jack is certain most of the team are just afraid that Gabriel would poison them all either accidentally or _intentionally_. Most likely the latter, with how much the dark man is grumbling and swearing in Spanish as he goes about. Jack can’t see, but he is willing to bet his beloved pulse rifle on Gabriel waving the giant ass chef knife about every time he curses. The compound is oddly quiet, everyone is either vacating the scene or just plain terrified. Jack knows Jesse is betting Genji on how many people will be lining up to Angela’s clinic after dinner. Jack also knows better than telling Gabriel about this. He _might just_ poison them all for real, then.

 

                “Need any help?” Jack prompts, hiding his grin behind the mug. The noises stop.

 

                “Oh, hell no, Mr. _I-can’t-tell-yellow-from-brown-sugar_. Are you sure your blindness isn’t a birth defect? Because I ain’t letting your ass near my kitchen ever again!”

 

                It’s difficult to contain his amusement now, but Jack has had years of practice. Ignoring the fact that Gabriel still remembers that incident, which honestly is _so_ Gabe (and Jack denies any warmth that might have burst in his chest), Jack calmly places the mug down and feigns disinterest, “So this is _your_ kitchen now? You and Hanzo might get into a disagreement there.”

 

                Gabriel’s infuriating sigh makes Jack’s lips quirk up. The chopping sounds continue, albeit a bit harsher and Gabriel’s curses become rapid.

 

                It’s funny how Gabriel always gets stressed out and prickly as shit whenever food is involved. Especially when it is _his food_ they are talking about. And Jack has witnessed too many of those moments to count.

 

                “Hey, Gabe, remember that time when we were stuck at base for a month and you won’t stop bitching about the issued food?”

 

                The noises stop again. “ _John_ Morrison, I swear to God-…”

 

                “Ooh! Story time? I love me some story time!”

 

                “Where the fuck did _you_ come from?!”

 

                “Just one of my many talents, luv!” Tracer’s grin is obvious in her voice, completely unfazed by Gabriel’s murderous tone. The stool next to Jack creaks when Lena parks her ass on it, the furniture scrapes loudly on the floor as she scoots closer, “So I heard you said something about Gabriel’s bitching?”

 

                Jack can’t hide his own grin anymore. And judging by the figuratively itchy spot on his face, Gabriel is glaring with all he is worth. Very nonchalantly, Jack takes a sip from his mug, “It might come as a surprise, but Gabriel Reyes is a food snob.”

 

                “Pffft~ Right. Since when he _isn’t_ a snob?” The knife meets the cutting board a little bit too hard there, “A’ight, tell me more!”

 

                Jack thinks it’s a miracle Gabriel didn’t pin both his face and Lena’s with a fork. Or a chopstick, those tend to be laying around in abundant here in Hanamura. The old soldier goes on great length and details to tell the exuberant Tracer about that one time when Gabriel _almost_ stopped eating entirely because the base where they were at the time and the nearby town didn’t have anything suitable to his _acquired_ taste. _Almost_ , because Gabriel wasn’t stupid enough to ruin his body with both excessive duties and a hunger-strike. He sure did bitch a lot, though.

 

                “ _Why the fuck is the rice so_ dry _?! Good God, why is the fish so_ overcooked _?! …They didn’t put_ basil _in the_ pasta _…Wow…_ ” Jack’s imitation of Gabriel’s voice might not be perfect, but it completely captured the disgust and offence. This time Jack did have to dodge a flying kitchen knife that embedded itself on the wall behind his head. With a smirk that he knows is provocative to Gabriel, Jack rights himself calmly and takes another sip of his lukewarm coffee triumphantly. Gabriel snarls, and promptly goes back to mincing whatever he has very, _very_ violently.

 

                Lena completely loses it, falling out of the fucking chair and laughing so hard she starts snorting.

 

                The noises from Gabriel’s side of the kitchen stop again and Jack was honestly afraid for Lena’s life for a split second. However, he couldn’t _see_ what was coming.

 

                Terrible pun.

 

              Jack didn’t expect Gabriel to have an iron grip on his chin and yanks him forward into a bruising kiss. Jack is pretty sure he spilled his coffee, but his brain doesn’t seem to be able to register this, focusing solely on the fact that Gabriel is hotly lapping on his lips, prying them open and plunging mercilessly inside to wrestle with his tongue. A hand creeps up to pull at Jack’s hair, angling his head so that Gabriel can thoroughly explore every well-known corner of the soldier’s mouth. Every stroke makes Jack quiver, his hands which are supporting his weight on the counters turn knuckle-white, and Gabriel’s grip on him is so tight, holding Jack in place ferociously even when the other man tries to break away for air. When they finally part, Jack is light-headed, his already clouded eyes are glazed over. Briefly, he can hear Lena’s wild catcalls, but Jack can’t bring himself to care, especially when a heavy-breathed, smirking Gabriel is licking the trail of saliva off the corner of Jack’s mouth. His neck is burning and his lungs are strained, but they aren’t the only parts of him which are _uncomfortable_ right now. And, _Gods_ , the way Gabriel is slowly dragging his wet kisses up to Jack’s temple, it should be ruled _illegal_.

 

                “Hey Jack.” The deep, dark and thickly rolling rumbles of Gabriel’s voice, so close to his skin that Jack felt it rather than heard it, makes his knees week. Jack hums hoarsely in response, not giving a flying fuck about Lena or whoever is watching them now. Hell, everyone knows what they are doing already, it should be common sense to get the fuck out of the way-…

 

                “No apple pie for you today.”

 

                With a loud smack against his forehead, Gabriel dances away, crackling madly like he just finished an extraordinarily successful Death Blossom.

 

                It took Jack a whooping ten seconds to realise what is going on.

 

                A vein was popping dangerously on his neck, and he grits his teeth.

 

                _Well played, Reyes. Well played._

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

                Dinner went exceptionally well. The crew absolutely _love_ Gabriel’s cooking, despite having some major reservations about it at first. But after Lena has devoured her second helping of quesadillas, looking like she would be dying of happiness at any given moment, the others dug in with full enthusiasm. The corn and black beans quesadillas are the first to go, and then the actual _homemade_ tortillas chips that quickly became everyone’s ravings of the night (“Never gunna look at Doritos the same…”-Jesse). The baja fish tacos are gone to the last crumbs, too, and then the table promptly _exploded_ when Gabriel brought out a coconut flan.

 

                Jack has been sulking amidst the, quite frankly, _obscene moaning_ from Lena and Jesse. It had taken a while for his… _raging problem_ earlier to go away, and he is pretty sure Lena will never let him leave this down. He is already plotting to get back at Gabriel for this, not only for embarrassing him, but also to deny Jack his most favourite dessert that the ex-merc can make.

 

                But then again, it’s difficult to stay mad like this, with Gabriel’s sticking close to his side, seeming so very awkward with all the compliments he is being showered with. His hand finds Jack’s under the table, squeezing it lightly as if to make sure that Jack is still there, and his kisses on Jack’s temple have been frequent, particularly whenever someone is giving him too much adoration for his cooking. They even seem a bit apologetic, Jack thinks, because instead of his favourite dish, the asshole decided to serve something that Jack is allergic to.

 

                It’s as good as any punishment, because Gabriel being flustered is gold, and Jack doesn’t need his sight to know the man is extremely uncomfortable in the spotlight. And Jack grins as he turns around to give Gabriel a soft kiss on the neck.

 

                It doesn’t mean the fucker is _not_ going to get punished _somewhere else_ , though.


	4. Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel Reyes' attempt at being a dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I'm drowning in so much angst thanks to the other fic [Helgeven](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7490478/chapters/17025201), I suppose a bit of fluff is in order to cheer myself up a little T~T

* * *

 

 

                “So I’ve been thinkin’…”

 

                “You have? That explains the burning smell.”

 

                Jesse throws Gabriel a very, very sour look that has Jack biting back a sigh. Torbjörn wisely keeps his mouth shut, though the Swedish does raise a bushy eyebrow at the cowboy. It is their weekly board game night, today it is Petits-Chevaux for some reasons, and everybody knows that people only bother to show up because otherwise Jesse would be whining endlessly. For instant, Gabriel would rather be somewhere else on his off night, preferably spending in his and Jack’s shared room, fucking.

 

                But Jesse McCree has severe problems regarding understanding basic definition of personal spaces and appropriate timing.

 

                No wonder Hanzo avoids him like a plague…

 

                “Hanzo likes dragons, right? I should get ‘im a stuffed dragon!”

 

                Gabriel slaps his own face with a resounding smack. This time, Jack does exhale rather loudly.

 

                “Jesse, I know you’ve gotten hit a few too many times on your head.” Gabriel’s voice is painfully patient, and he completely ignores the cowboy’s glare, “And while your precious bratty archer acts like a princess and can be such a man-child towards his brother, you shouldn’t treat him like one. We have enough arrows embedding around the place as it is.”

 

                McCree throws down his dices more violently than he should have, and curses loudly when he got snake eyes, “He ain’t a brat and he ain’t a princess! But what’d _y’_ suggest, o’ Mr. _Lovebird_?”

 

                Torbjörn spits out a laugh that he immediately tries to cover with a very sad attempt of a cough. Jack, on the other hand, has no such qualms and laughs straight at Gabriel’s face, who is currently throwing Jesse a very deathly glare.

 

                “Call me that again, and you will find yourself _another_ replacement for that arm.”

 

                That immediately sobers Torbjörn up, “’Ey! I ain’t replacin’ shit fer yer arse’oles an’more! Keep ‘em guns in yer pants!”

 

                This time, it is Jack who face-palms at the (probably) accidental pun. The old soldier sighs and tosses his dices, “Jesse, ninja or not, Hanzo is a grown ass man. I have to agree with Gabe here, unfortunately, you can’t just do stupid shit and expect him to fawn all over you.”

                “’Course y’d agree wit’ him!” The gunslinger exclaims, moving his piece of yellow plastic horse head more forcefully than he should have, “Y’two snog all o’er th’ house so much there ain’t ‘nough bleach for all o’ our eyes!!!”

 

                “Except for Oxton. She seems to enjoy anything she gets to see.” Gabriel is completely unfazed, even when a flustered Jack punches him on the shoulder not-very-lightly, “Look, _mi’ijo_. You need to stop coming up with stupid ways to impress our poor sniper every other day. It’s getting a bit old.”

 

                “Like y’ face.” Jesse mutters under his breath sullenly. Torbjörn rolls his eyes and decides to join in the conversation finally, because this is just way too fucking sad, even for him. After taking a long, gulping pull from his tankard, of course.

 

                “McCree, ye, wah?” The mechanic wipes the froth off his moustache with the back of his hand, frowning, “Crush on ev’ryone ye meet, ‘s long ‘s t’ey’re easy on ta eyes. Am sure Hanzo ain’t a diff’rent case. Just lay off ‘im, would ye? ‘Cause ‘e’s obviously not int’rested.”

 

                “ _Wooooooooooooooooooooooow_ …Real sen’tive, Torb. ‘Preciate th’ support, partner.”

 

                Jack groans as Jesse is downright _sulking_. And Gabriel just finds the whole shebang amusing. What can he say? Watching the idiot embarrassing himself basically everywhere, at base, on mission, during breaks…is incredibly entertaining, and the subject of entertainment has always been difficult when it comes to Gabriel.

 

                That is to say, Gabriel doesn’t think that Hanzo is _completely_ _uninterested_.

 

                Other than being stupid, Jesse is a great kid. His humour is dumb and he can be completely ridiculous, but he has a big heart. He can be cocky at times, but Jesse is respectful and polite towards just about everyone. Except Gabriel. But that’s a completely different story, regarding their history. The point is, Gabriel didn’t handpick and teach Jesse back then for nothing. The kid’s (Gabriel supposes he should stop calling him that, considering Jesse isn’t that young anymore) attitudes sometimes remind Gabriel of Jack when he was still Strike-Commander, still naïve. Naturally, it makes the ex-Blackwatch Commander a bit nostalgic at times and Gabriel is undeniably fond of the gunslinger despite their squabbles. Gabriel also knows that Jesse’s friendliness and tendency to mind over the matter gains him a lot of affection from the team.

 

                The fact remains, however, is that Jesse is stupid. Or oblivious, if Gabriel has to say so himself.

 

                Jesse obviously doesn’t realise his lame attempts to joke and impress are nothing compared to his small gestures. How he always leaves containers of food carefully set aside for Hanzo whenever the archer has one of his broody episodes and skips dinner. How Jesse always asks how the elder Shimada is in the morning meetings and actively seeks the latter out to wish him a good night sleep. How he always makes sure to scout out locations first for Hanzo during missions, always respectful towards the archer over the com…

 

                It is sickening.

 

                And they say Gabriel and Jack are bad. Honestly…

 

                Jesse follows Hanzo around like a lost puppy, it is sad to watch. Even an oblivious fuck like Winston notices this, and it’s rather difficult to block out Lena’s, quote marks, _suppressed_ squealing. The fact that, as Genji has noted, McCree doesn’t spot an arrow protruding from between his eyes is a very positive sign that Hanzo at least somewhat enjoys the attention.

 

                Also Gabriel doesn’t have a fucking clue as to why this idiot of a man doesn’t go to _Genji_ , Hanzo’s very own (though estranged) _brother_ for consultation. Just because Jack and Gabriel are together doesn’t mean _they_ have good advice. Hell, Gabriel is pretty sure the entire team would agree that they need to go to a shrink after all the shit that happened.

 

                And yet, here they are. Every week is the same fucking thing. They sit down for a stupid board game that Jesse insists on having and listening to his wild courtship plans. Sometimes, when Gabriel just can’t be fucking bothered, he would drag Jack off somewhere else away from the compound or enlist himself on a mission. Though missions aren’t particularly many to come by these days, with them trying to lay low and shit. Plus Jesse McCree has this incredible and annoying talent of tracking people down.

 

                “Why don’t you just ask him out?” Jack’s voice is tired, and Gabriel has half a mind to break Jesse’s nose for wasting so much of their time, “I mean, you’re both grown adults and it should just be a simple matter of yes or no, right?”

 

                “Yer actin’ like a kindergartener.” Torbjörn translates flatly, “Makin’ shit comp’ica’ed. An’ wastin’ our time. I’d rat’er be tin’erin’ wit me shit n’ am pret’y sure t’ese two arse’oles’re more in’erested in shaggin’ each ot’er t’an bein’ ‘ere.”

 

                Gabriel’s lips quirk up in amusement as Jack sputters indignantly behind the visor. And Jesse looks caught between anger and embarrassment, clutching one of the cheap plastic horse heads so hard it cracks. As Jack and Torbjörn begin to yell at each other, Gabriel just observes Jesse silently, watching colours slowly steams up the cowboy’s tanned face into an alarming shade of purple. After a moment or two, Jesse notices Gabriel’s stare and proceeds to squirm, his entire face scrunching up like he is in genuine, _physical_ pain. Gabriel gives a positively devilish smirk. Jesse’s bottom lip juts out.

 

                All the while, Jack and Torbjörn are still bickering.

 

                “ _What if he says no_???” Jesse suddenly wails, catching the two loud men by surprise. Gabriel snickers. Jesse glares at him.

 

                “Then it would stop you from embarrassing yourself?” Gabriel supplies, albeit not very helpfully, evident by how Jack gives him another punch. His grin only broadens, “Seriously, there is no harm in asking, _mi’ijo_. It’d put your mind at ease.”

 

                “Easy fer _y_ ’ to say…” Jesse grouses out, and his scowl contorts every muscle on his face. The gunslinger looks so serious all the sudden, solemnly glaring at his clasped hands over the table like they have personally offended him somehow.

 

                Gabriel raises his eyebrow. Jesse sighs.

 

                “I’m still getting’ ‘im th’ dragon.”

 

               


	5. Home is where the Mech is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a normal Thursday afternoon with the mecha squad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Genji-centric long-awaited chapter!!! Writing him has been such a joy <3  
> Thank you guys so much for the support!!

                Thursday has been quiet and mostly lax around the compound. They just had a pretty serious mission, mainly to test the skills of the recruits, and everyone seems content to enjoy the downtime. Genji is among those, and he is taking his time to teach Bastion how to pet the stray cat Gabriel brought home.

               

                Officially, the cat’s name is Apricot, dubbed by Jack, and nobody has the heart to tell the poor guy Apricot doesn’t have one spec of yellow or orange or even red on her. She is grey, with splotches of black on her coat, having white, uneven socks and belly. Lena has dragged Genji and Reinhardt out the very next day after the tiny kitty got here, going on a very meticulous shopping trip for cat things, including a neon purple collar with menacing studs that Apricot now dons. Hanzo, ever the spoilsport, vehemently denied to have a litter box inside the compound and insisted that Apricot does her business in the backyard instead. This was bound to be disastrous, but Genji kept his mouth shut and watched all hell broke loose with hidden glee. Sure enough, within the first three days, Hanzo himself managed to step onto Apricot’s poorly concealed poop, not once, but _twice_. Winston complained about the smell and questioned why they didn’t just get one of those self-cleaning litter boxes in the first place, Brigitte and Lena almost got into a fight with Hanzo to protect the kitty, and Gabriel found his favourite pair of socks shat on.

 

                The nickname Shitter sticks since then. And they did get a litter box.

 

                “ _Bee boop_?”

 

                “Ah, _hai_ , that’s good, Bastion.” Genji nods encouragingly at the omnic, who seems a bit alarmed that the kitty starts purring when being rubbed under her chin.

 

                “ _Beep boop boop!_ ”

 

                Bastion has been quite shy at first when Apricot was introduced to the household, having not had experiences with this species before. The loud clanking noises it makes scared Apricot at first, making the cat puff up and hissing. Clearly, Bastion is curious, though it has taken a while for Genji and Zenyatta to convince the omnic unit to slowly let Apricot get used to its presence.

 

                Apricot was finally allowing Bastion to pick her up, the unit happily cradling the cat against its metallic chest, when Hana Song’s clicking heels sounded across the basement.

 

                “Oh, am I interrupting something? Angie told me you’d be down here…”

 

                “It’s fine.” Genji inclines his head politely, and gestures at Bastion, “I am merely helping Bastion acquainting with Apricot.”

 

                Hana immediately coos at this, bouncing over to have a closer look. Bastion beeps bashfully, though his mechanical finger never ceases stroking the cat’s chin.

 

                “What is it do you need me for?”

 

                The young Korean girl immediately turns at this, a wide, mischievous smile stretches across her young face, “Soooooooooooooo~ I was heading off to Angie’s clinic since we got this health check-up appointment thingie. Three guesses as to who beat me there for it.”

 

                Genji raises an eyebrow, even though nobody can actually see that. Despite Hana’s quite recent inclusion to the team, she and Genji have been getting along handsomely, never mind the age gap. The girl is quick to catch onto the shenanigans going around the place, too, and her mischievous nature wouldn’t let her off any chance of some juicy gossips.

 

                And around this household, there is only one subject of gossip that is far juicier than any other…

 

                “Jesse McCree.”

 

                “Bingo!” Hana pops her bubble-gum cheerily, her Cheshire grin threatens to split her face into two, “Your bro shot him in the ass. Angie didn’t look very happy. Poor _wittle_ Jesse was in tears.”

 

                That breaks a delightful chortle out of Genji. While his brother would deny this with every fibre of his being, calling it disgraceful or whatever, Genji, and most of the team, thinks this entire ordeal is amusing as hell. Their father must be rolling in his grave, knowing Hanzo is being courted like a _maiden_ , by the most cliché example of a _Yank_ of all people. What a great time to be alive…

 

                Worst thing is, everybody, but Jesse McCree, knows that despite his hissy fits, Hanzo secretly enjoys the attention. If he didn’t, well, Jesse wouldn’t be having an arrow in the ass and would be having his head on a pike instead. Genji has been sneaking around his brother’s room more than enough to know that, on contrary to Hanzo’s various shows of disgust and blatant polite feigns, the archer actually keeps all the junks Jesse gifted to him, including that ridiculous stuffed blue _Western_ dragon.

 

                Man, stealing that thing, with its stupid fat face, slanted eyes and round belly, then watching Hanzo rampaging through the compound have been _hilarious_. Hanzo was red-faced with a thick vein popping on his neck, yet didn’t dare to open his mouth and actually ask anyone about the dragon because he still needs to hang onto his dignity. Genji had to hold back his laughter so much, his stomach actually had cramps. Though the cyborg suspects Jesse getting shot in the ass has something to do with this. Hanzo has never been the best in containing his violent outbursts after all.

 

                “You still have the toy?” Genji asks Hana, who is now sitting on her mech, feet dangling and chugging down her soft drink.

 

                “Derp. Buried under all my other plushies. Good luck to him trying to swim through all of that. I play to win, yo.” She smirks, swirling her bottle around smugly, “’Sides, Lena can zip by and pass it to her room if your bro got a whiff of it. And then there’s Lucio. Pretty sure we can rob Reyes, among others into this, too, with good enough bribery. I mean, the entire house is totally sick with your bro and Jesse dancing around each other, it would be more fun if we all pitch in at this point.”

 

                “Oh, I’m sure.” Genji snickers, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, “It would be a lot less cringy if Jesse just man the fuck up and ask _onii-san_ out, while _onii-san_ should stop being a _tsundere_ and acting like he isn’t ass over tits for Jesse.”

 

                “Urgh, but then all the old men sex around the house tho…” Hana shudders, her nose crinkling, “We kinda have enough with Morrison and Reyes.”

 

                “Oh? And here I thought you are just big of a fangirl as Lena is.”

 

                “But the _old men sex!_ ” Hana whines, sticking her tongue out, “Nothing against the gays, but _old men sex! Ew!_ Like I suppose their bodies are still hot-ish, but seriously those two aren’t just badly scarred, they also are old enough to be my grandpas! Well, technically _you_ are old enough to be my uncle, but your cybernetic body makes you look kinda hot, _and I can’t fucking believe I just said that_ , but Jesse and Hanzo do look like _actual uncles_! And _ew_! _More_ old men sex!”

 

                Genji merely shifts his pose at her ranting, while Bastion just beeps confusedly, still cradling a now sleeping Apricot to its chest, “You seem very conflicted.”

 

                “ _I like yaoi_! But _old men sex_ tho!!”

 

                Genji rolls his eyes and makes an exasperated noise at Hana’s flailing. _Kids_ …

 

                Then again, he supposes his own grown ass brother and his curious object of affection is not exactly _matured_ either. Suddenly, being down at the basement of his once notorious family’s base of operation with an omnic petting a cat and a MEKA pilot having a semi-breakdown about old men sex doesn’t seem strange at all. Perhaps for the first time since he was born, Genji feels very much at home, here in Hanamura of all places.

 


	6. Intervention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because the cringe needs to be stopped.

 

* * *

 

               “Guys…What's _this??_ ”

 

                “It’s an intervention, Jesse.” Angela speaks with an almost pained voice, probably feeling quite ridiculous being here, though still manages to call forth her legendary patience. Gabriel is simply munching cookies on the side, legs propped on Jack’s lap, looking nonchalant if not amused. It is difficult to tell what the old soldier is thinking with that visor on, but he probably isn’t the happiest at the moment. Lucio looks rather awkward, swinging back and forth on his rump on the floor, a grinning Hana standing behind him. Lena is sharing the same ear-splitting grin with the Korean girl, while Reinhardt doesn’t look like he wants to be here at all, and it is _hilarious_ how he tries to hide his mass behind Angela. Torbjörn, of course, has his tankard out, and looks suspiciously like he is trying to drown himself in beer. Mei is blushing to the roots of her hair, Brigitte is somewhat annoyed as she pays all her attention into petting Apricot the Kitty, while Bastion, Winston and Zenyatta are nowhere to be found.

 

                And Genji…Genji is leaning against the wall, at the very back of the room, quietly observing everything.

 

                Jesse McCree, former Blackwatch and Deadlock gang member, acclaimed gunslinger with terrible one-liners, is completely speechless. His eyebrows twitch as he stares at the ridiculous, rainbow-coloured banner stretching above everyone’s head, spelling out “INTERVENTION” neatly, obviously hand-painted by Hana, Lena and, surprisingly, Lucio, judging by the stains on their hands and hair. And _of fucking course_ Reyes has to be contributing _baked goods_ to this _event_.

 

                Jesse’s eyes and fingers twitch as he glares at the not-so-innocent cake, with black and gold icing and a very obvious _blue dragon_ piped on top.

 

                Gabriel’s grin becomes positively _devious_.

 

                Before Jesse could pull out his revolver and shoot the bastard a new hole, Angela clears her throat. This time, there is a bit of steel is in her voice, and everyone knows damn well to not piss the Doctor off, “Jesse, you need to tell Hanzo how you feel.”

 

                “ _What?!_ ” The cowboy sputters, his mood immediately going from murderous to flustered. Angela folds her arms and sternly gives Jesse _the Look_.

 

                “We all know you have been trying to… _court_ Hanzo ever since he joined…”

 

                “Uhm, tec’nically two months af’er he joined?” Jesse feels the need to defend himself, though he wilts when Angela’s _the Look_ turns into _the Glare_ , “…Sorry, ma’am…”

 

                Angela clears her throat again, regaining her composure, “But riling him up every week and getting shot in the behind every time is _not_ healthy.”

 

                Great, there goes the doctor-patient confidential. Unwittingly, Jesse bristles again, but Lena beats him to it, “Jesse, luv, you can’t do this to yourself, much less the team. I mean, it’s hilarious and all, but stealin’ Winston’s scope to zoom into Hanzo’s ass is defo not the _intended idea of the gadget_ , y’know what I’m sayin’?”

 

                Jesse’s lower jaw drops, though he doesn’t get to say a word again, “McCree, I know you have great intention in trying to be protective, but Hanzo can scale building. You _can’t_.” Morrison deadpans, not one bit bothered by Reyes’ feet in his lap and still manages to look intimidating, “You can’t keep jeopardizing missions by slipping and falling all around the place. Or getting left behind because you give yourself a limp.”

 

                “Also, we have terrible advice for couples, by the way.” Reyes piques, obnoxiously swallowing a mouthful of double chocolate chip cookies, “Pretty sure the whole team agree, so please stop trying to rob us into those game nights. Because it grows terribly awkward real quick.”

 

                Mumbles of agreement spread across the room.

 

                “Please, can you refrain from stealing my endothermic blaster as well?” Mei raises her hand as if she was in class, and looking like she is going to die of embarrassment, “I know you wish to create beautiful sculptures for Shimada-san, but, uh…my blaster isn’t a toy…Sorry…”

 

                Jesse raises a finger, his mouth opens half way, but Brigitte immediately cuts in, “Unless it’s business or emergency related, I and Torbjörn aren’t going to fix your arm again. Extracting Hanzo’s splintering arrowheads out of metal is _very_ tacky.”

 

                “Seriously, guys, I’m feelin’ _so_ attacked…”

 

                “Well, I think they are right, man.” Lucio holds up his palms in a peaceful gesture, smiling awkwardly, “I mean…It wouldn’t hurt to just out your feelings, right?”

 

                “It’d definitely save us the whole “ _Hanzo stomping around the house angrily because he can’t find shit_ ” thing.” Jack mutters unhappily.

 

                “What? What’d ya mean?” Jesse seems confused, and there is a collective sigh from everyone else.

 

                “Jesse, you poor, _poor_ manchild…” Hana’s voice is nothing short of (mocking) sympathetic, though there is a hint of exasperation as she raises an eyebrow at him, “Hanzo kinda keeps _everything_ you ever gave him? As in, _everything_?”

 

                “And everybody else knows that except for you, ‘parently.” Brigitte snorts, Lena nodding vehemently in agreement.

 

                “If Mr. _Handsoap_ ain’t such a drama queen, he’d have admitted he is totally into you, luv. So we ain’t 100% blamin’ you?” There is some _actual_ sympathy there, “But yeah, while it’s all cute and amazin’ as fuck, gotta say it’s getting quite old. And you two dancin’ around each other is getting really sad.”

 

                Once again, Jesse McCree is speechless.

 

                “Wait, y’all sayin’ _he likes me as much I as like ‘im_???”

 

                Okay, he does _not_ deserve that collective groan.

 

                “Are you sure I’m the only one clinically blind?” Jack turns his face towards Angela, who has covered her face in both her hands. Jesse flails his arms about, his eyes a bit wild.

 

                “Hey! _Hey!_ Didn’t y’all gat’er here to solve _my_ prob’em??? Gimme some answers, goddamnit! Does he like me or no??? I need to know! ‘Cause seriously, I’m head o’er heels for Hanzo, and y’all are just makin’ fun of me!”

 

                There is complete silence.

 

                Jesse is huffing and puffing, glaring daggers at his spectators, who all look petrified all the sudden. Though Reyes’ smirk has turned into a shit-eating grin. Oh, yeah. Totally is going to shoot that son of a b-

 

                “Please, do continue.”

 

                Jesse does the un-manliest thing. He yelps, tries to turn around, catches his own ankle, and falls onto his ass. Right in front of _Hanzo_.

 

                “ _You!!_ ”

 

                The archer looks very pacified, which _isn’t_ the greatest thing, and Jesse finds himself fearing for his life now. Hanzo simply raises an eyebrow and folds his arms loosely.

 

                _Holy shit dem muscles!_

 

                Jesse stammers, and it would have smacked himself for being such an idiot if it didn’t feel like someone has cut all the strings in his body. Mouth ajar, the gunslinger sputters and makes a very, _very_ painful, keening noise that is akin to a dying chicken.

 

                Hanzo sidesteps him.

 

                Jesse’s heart drops to the bottom of his stomach.

 

                “I would have you know, I am very difficult to please. Only the best may satisfy me.” The archer’s voice is as cool as a cucumber, as he steps closer to inspect the pastry table. Jesse scutters on his ass to turn around, his lower jaw dangling.

 

                Everyone else holds their breath.

 

                Jesse’s shout of joy and pure _victorious_ could have brought down a lesser house, as he springs to his feet and throws himself at Hanzo’s back, clinging onto the archer koala-style. Annoyed, Hanzo swats at Jesse, though the latter is adamant in not letting go, and is sprouting out all things he loves about the archer. Hana and Lena are openly hooting and catcalling, while the majority of the room start evacuating the place, only stopping to take a portion of cookies. Reinhardt just looks relieved to leave.

 

                Gabriel hooks his arm behind his back, and secretly gives Genji the thumb-up.

 

                The cyborg grins behind his mask.

 

                His dear brother is so unpredictable, after all these years. Orchestrating this this has been totally worth it, especially to see the tint on pink on Hanzo’s cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scene inspired by How I met Your Mother~


	7. Inner Peace and Broken Patience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winston playing babysitter.

                Winston finds it… _difficult_ sometimes to operate this new Overwatch initiative.

 

                Being the appointed leader at the moment, it is natural for people to come to him for complaints and issues. Though, the scientist has to admit, he would rather them coming up to him than taking matters in their own hands.

 

                Like _right now_.

 

                Honestly, looking at the once beautiful garden of the Shimada Castle being razed to the ground with _explosives_ , Winston isn’t sure if he wants to settle all the conflicts in a _civilized manner_ or running around shooting people just like Hanzo _is doing_.

 

                Why, oh, _why_ has his life come to this?

 

                Putting Lena and Reyes into a team has been a disastrous decision. Not in a sense that they didn’t work together well or anything. Oh, no, they work together a little _too well_ , as everyone, including those two, have surprisingly discovered, and the result has been _devastating_ to say the least. Now, every time Lena has a _terrible_ idea, she goes straight to Reyes. And Reyes, whose consent is still very much _questionable_ to Winston, always manages to find a way to make said terrible ideas _catastrophic_.

 

                Yes…Hanzo actually has all the rights to be pissed here…

 

                And, meanwhile, Zenyatta is so fu-…damned calm in his little corner, undisturbed despite the chaos going around, content to meditate with Apricot sleeping in his floating lap. The omnic monk, who has been there since morning, hasn’t moved an inch even as the bomb went off. Granted, the Pulse Bomb doesn’t give off much of a sound, but the noises of _everything crumbling down_ _should have jostled Zenyatta_ _for at least an inch_. But it didn’t, and, amidst the chaos, the cat seemed to deem the monk a safe enough haven and hopped into his curled legs for a nap, turning the situation even _more_ ridiculous than it already is…

 

                All the while, Reyes and Lena seem to slowly drive Hanzo closer to actual insanity. In the middle of exploded soil, broken delicate tree trunks, destroyed flowers, smashed grass, debris and pebbles, the number of arrows embedded in _absolutely everything_ start to grow. Winston could at least be thankful that blood wasn’t shed, _yet_. It wasn’t that Hanzo was bad at aiming at all. It is just the other two know how to push his buttons so well, with Reyes phasing around and Lena hopping like a rabbit, making themselves impossible to hit. Well, _almost_ impossible…

 

                …Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand that was definitely a Dragonstrike.          

 

                No wonder Jack’s hair is completely white…

 

                Winston let out a long, loud, painful, suffering sigh as he listens to Lena’s tell-tale yelp and Reyes’ string of curses. The twin dragon spirits have ripped up even a _larger_ patch on soil in their wake. Looking at the utter destruction around him, the gorilla scientist could only thank whatever logical deduction that made him send Genji, Jesse, Hana and Jack away for the mission. The rest of the team, aside from Bastion who is probably being a birdfeeder at the front yard again, are away, off to town or wherever. Winston just couldn’t imagine the mayhem if they were all here….

 

                Scratch that, he doesn’t want to imagine _shit_ right now.

 

                “Can we _please_ just-…”

 

                His tentatively raised finger immediately retracts when Reyes and Lena double-team Hanzo, making the archer fall flat on his ass. His scattering arrows make them _scatter_ , though. Profanities in Japanese, Spanish and English go flying everywhere are the three… _morons_ began to chase each other round and round again…

 

                “Guys! Please!! Can we please just calm dow-…”

 

                Hanzo catches Lena in the ankle and she pummels on the ground, groaning. Winston’s words died in his throat, watching helplessly as Reyes kicks the archer in the back of his knee. Hanzo goes down with a surprised half-yelp, half-curse, but also let off a sonic arrow that blinds the other two temporarily.

               

                And to think all this has started because Reyes stole an underdevelopment bomb from Winston’s lab for Lena…A very, _very_ unstable Pulse Bomb. That was supposed to be a new upgrade for the next important mission…

 

                A stray arrow misses Winston just by a millimetre. The scientist’s eyebrow twitches.

 

                “THAT.IS. **ENOUGH**!!!!!” He roars, massive fists slam into the ground and create a shockwave that sends the three clowns flying. The only thing standing, the beautiful but definitely tattered gazebo, gives with a loud groan, collapsing into itself with a deafening crash. Apricot let out a very startled and offended “mroaw” before scrambling away from Zenyatta’s lap. The omnic monk finally, and _very gradually_ , parts from his entranced state.

 

                “Walk as if you are kissing the Earth with your feet.” He hums at the scene, and Winstons slaps his own forehead, hard.

 

                “I _really_ need a vacation…” He mumbles exasperatedly, completely ignoring Lena’s semi-guilty giggles.

 

 

               

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zenyatta's quote by Monk Thich Nhat Hanh.
> 
> ./dance away crackling in glee
> 
> SO GOOD TO BE BACK WRITING HUMOUR BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA~


	8. Jacket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sweet and gentle like the smell of gunpower in the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mindless fluff because I've been writing angst too much recently.

 

* * *

 

               When you lead a life as Jack Morrison does, there are so many things that can go wrong with an outing. This Talon agent they are going against is truly a pain in the ass, using a cloaking device that renders her invisible to the naked eyes. Good thing Jack is blind and his visor has a build-in heat detector, while Gabriel simply can sense life force in general. This motherfucker is _fast_ , though, not as fast as Lena, but _fast_.

 

                And it doesn’t fucking help when they have about two dozen Talon soldiers up their asses, either. Of course Gabriel has the nerves to laugh at Jack’s complaining.

 

                “If you don’t like this whelp, then you will have a grand time with Sombra.” The shotguns’ roaring tears through the rasping rain, sounds of bodies hitting the mud confirm his kills. Jack adds in the clicking of his own pulse rifle, his shots just as precise as Gabriel, if not a little less brutal. They move among the vehicles behind this Talon base, covering each other without much communication, hoping to God they are buying Mei enough time to hack into the system.

 

                “Who’s Sombra? Your Talon ex?” Jack grunts when a stray bullet bounces off his Kevlar, missing his knee by a hair. His return fire hits the assaulter between the eyes. They don’t make soldiers the way they used to nowadays.

 

                “More like an acquaintance. A very useful acquaintance.” Gabriel grouses with an even rougher chuckle, killing another one who is creeping to their flank, “Jealous?”

 

                “Figure Talon woulda given you some good flings.” A Helix Rocket scatters their ranks, giving Gabriel the space to pick off three more. Rumbling laughter behind him makes a shiver go down Jack’s spine.

 

                “Don’t be such a tease, _sunshine._ You know my _preferences_.” They move again, Gabriel ghosting through the rows of cars while Jack dashes behind them, “’Sides, I was still getting over that one _farmboy_ I met back in the days.”

 

                Jack’s lips twitch behind the visor, “Old flame of yours?”

 

                “Old and _flaming hot_.” Gabriel purrs. Jack sniggers. He startles when Mei’s voice squeaks over the comm.

 

                “ _I…I-uh…I got the data! P-please, can we go now?_ ”

 

                Ah, damn, the channel is still open. Jack curses when that brief moment of distraction provides the slinking invisible assassin to creep over. If it isn’t for his decades-old reflexes, the bullet would have punched through his heart, armours be damned. It still hurts like hell though, whizzing through his shoulder like cutting butter with a hot knife, the sheer impact of it sends Jack tumbling. But the assassin doesn’t escape her fate, Gabriel’s shotgun blows up her skull without much effort. Despite the rifle’s recoil being painful as fuck, Jack manages to provide some cover fire as they retreat into the forest.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

                Since they still have two minor missions on this side of the hemisphere, Jack and Gabriel part ways with a very relieved Mei and head off to a different direction. Even though they operate as a group now, both Jack and Gabriel still maintain their various safe houses around the world just for situations like this. They aren’t anything fancy, just a place to crash, reconcile and move on.

 

                Jack tears through the lukewarm burger they picked up on the way, outer layer and armours discarded haphazardly across the creaky wooden floor as Gabriel tends to his wounded shoulder. SEP soldiers heal quickly, but broken bones can be just as big of a pain in the ass for Jack like everyone else. The biotic emitter helps somewhat, but the wound still needs to be dressed and changed. Perhaps it will take them a couple of days to move on, but that isn’t an issue. The other missions are only recons and don’t have a set time. They can slow down a little and have a breather.

 

                “Y’know, I’d love to have a date without having to patch you up by the end of the day.” Gabriel rumbles, nosing at the silver hair at Jack’s nape. The solder barks out a laugh between his bites.

 

                “And you said I don’t know how to have a good time.” He doesn’t even flinch when Gabriel pinches his uninjured side. Groaning at his creaking muscles, Jack eases back to lean against his lover’s solid, cool form. The low temperature soothes his prickling skin and Jack plops the remaining bite into his mouth, slapping his hands together to get rid of the crumbs, “Gonna need a new jacket after this.”

 

                He doesn’t need his sight to see the already beat up leather laying in abandon on the dusty floor. It is caked with mud, has several tears and a bunch of holes on it. Gabriel snorts against his temple, cold hand smoothing down Jack’s bare abs, “About time. It looks like shit. You take that Captain America theme too seriously.”

 

                “You know you love it.” Jack angles a kiss at Gabriel’s stubbly jaw, feeling the grunted agreement against his lips. They let silence sink into the cramped space, listening to the pattering rain outside for a few contented moments. Gabriel’s fingers draw intangible figures along Jack’s scarred skin, Jack’s hand rubbing against the fabric on Gabriel’s thigh, feeling the well-mapped muscles with his absent-minded strokes.

 

                Before, when they were young, moments like this, quiet and in their own little world, were swift and stolen, burning away in throes of passion and lovemaking. But time gives them insight, appreciation, to treasure whatever they are allowed to have, to simply enjoy the presence of one another. Just like this, Jack finds peace in his ever-strained mind, letting his thoughts washed away with the pitter-patter of the rain and the feeling of Gabriel’s skin on his. It is a good place to be.

 

                “You can always use one of mine.” Gabriel suddenly suggests, tickling at Jack’s bellybutton until his hand is swatted away, “Long and fluttering, just like how you used to like it.”

 

                Jack snickers, even when warmth blooms pleasantly in his chest, “Sentimental much?”

 

                “Don’t be so full of yourself, Morrison. That ain’t attractive at all.” His affectionate nosing along Jack’s neck says otherwise, “That coat would do the world a favour, covering your flat ass from innocent, unsuspecting sights.”

 

                Jack snorts, prodding Gabriel’s thigh non-too gently, “Admit it, Reyes, you just wanna see me in your clothes.”

 

                Laughter ghosts against his skin, “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

 

                Lazy kisses are exchanged, unhurried, gentle and sloppy, with Jack huffing in amused exasperation against ashen lips. Fingers go back to tracing patterns on Jack’s skin, with just a little bit more heat to them. Gabriel drinks in Jack’s little sighs, grinning when chapped lips parts to meet his tongue.

 

                “You know what? Perhaps I’ll try it on after all.”


	9. Will O'-wisps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the fleeting thoughts and those that have passed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is for [ClockworkSeraph](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockworkSeraph/pseuds/ClockworkSeraph). Keep your chin up darling, we're here for you <3

* * *

 

                “Do you…sometimes wish things were different?”

 

                Gabriel glances over at her, raising an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

 

                Beside him, sitting astride the slanted rooftop, Lena fidgets, “I-I…I dunno. I just…I have thoughts sometimes.”

 

                And she thinks it is a good idea to confine in him. Alarming to him and stupid on her part. Gabriel turns his half-invested attention away, back to the cherry blossom trees’ browning leaves, “Elaborate?”

 

                Lena doesn’t answer for a while. But she has never been the type to put the lid back on the can once it has been popped open. Nervousness and the cheerful mascot of the team don’t mix well. Like the soured feeling on the tip of one’s tongue after consuming sweets. It is unpleasant, if Gabriel has to say so himself.

 

                “I dunno, but uh…” She stops herself again, sighing and running a hand through tousled, unruly hair. Another pause, before she starts again, finger tapping on the chronal accelerator whenever she thinks too particularly hard, “It’s not anything grand, y’know? But sometimes I wish things were different. That we don’t have to fight anymore. What if things never turned to shit? What if we had stopped a-and got a life of our own somewhere? Something…normal for once…”

 

                Gabriel winces. Mentions of the Swiss base, no matter how brief, always hits somewhat too close to home. Especially when Lena’s tone is so melancholic, a little sad and a little regretful. It makes him think as well, that if it has been him that ruined everything for everyone else.

 

                Gabriel ruthlessly crushes that thought as soon as it surfaces. There are things he would have done differently, things that he is still sore about, things that he isn’t proud of, but they are nothing he can change now.

 

                But his words are careful when he speaks to her, “Dwelling in the past never does anyone anything good. It distracts you from the present, what is right in front of you.”

 

                “Yeah.” She agrees easily. Gabriel can’t see why she wouldn’t. Out of everyone here, Lena ought to know time best. Yet Gabriel knows this isn’t the end of the conversation. He understands that feeling far too well, when rationality wars with emotions. While he isn’t the best at being conflicted with himself, Jack is, and there has been far too many instances like this with the stupid ex-Golden Boy to count.

 

                At least Lena isn’t as stubborn.

 

                “Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like if we…stopped fighting.” She mumbles, sounding slightly aghast with herself, “The thrill grows old, I can’t believe I just said that, and it just…it feels repetitive, ya know what am sayin’?”

 

                Nobody can always be happy 100% of the time. There is a saying, that the seemingly happiest are often the saddest inside, or so. Not a lot of people would see Lena as depressed, not even Gabriel, but he knows her. She has been through so much shit and more. More so than a lot of people.

 

                “It’s difficult for thoughts to not wander, y’know? It’s more difficult when it’s quiet. Sometimes memories come back and it’s just…” She pops her knuckles, at a lack of better things to do. The stop is longer this time. Gabriel can hear the gears in her head turning, trying to form the words that she doesn’t normally speak. And she laughs instead, something that she knows, something that she is used to. But it breaks her voice at the end, a tiny chip of the exuberant energy she always radiates.

 

                “Back when I was uh…younger, I kinda wanted a pub for myself.” Lena giggles, a little deliriously so. They both understand she means before the accident. Neither makes the correction, “Nothing grand. Something local probably. Small and with a silly name.”

 

                “Like the Flying Cauldron?” Gabriel snickers. It earns him a sock on the shoulder.

 

                “Oi!” She makes a face at him, but the giggles she makes are less forced now, like she is breathing easier. They share a moment of relatively peaceful silence, watching Zenyatta hovers across the garden, Apricot perching in his lap as if she is captain of a spaceship. Lena smiles in the end, big brown eyes reflecting the dying sun.

 

                “But I guess it ain’t too bad here….now, I mean. Things could have been a lot worse.”

 

                “Way worse.” That Gabriel can’t disagree. He could have been dead for good. _Jack_ could have been dead for good. They could have never met each other again, could have never worked things out between them. But instead, they are here, with the old gang and a few additions. It has been tough here and there, as expected of such a strange group. Nothing he can complain about, though.

 

                “All I can say is…if we didn’t do what we did, if things didn’t turn out the way it is now, then you and I wouldn’t be sitting here, enjoying such a nice breeze in a random, unproductive day off.” Gabriel leans back on his elbow, catching a glimpse of Jesse and Genji walking through the gate behind Angela, arms laden with shopping bags.

 

                Beside him, Lena chuckles, “No, I suppose not.”

 

                And she grins, eyes crinkling around the corner and flashing white teeth at the setting sun, bare feet bouncing on ceramic in a crackling bout of laughter.

 

                They are all fucked up, one way or another. There is no fixing that and there is no turning back time, no matter how advanced their technology is. But they have fought, still are fighting, and even if it’s just a fleeting moment, there is a small chunk of peace here, in the heart of Hanamura where old soldiers rest. It is something they deserve, even if it is not what they want initially. It is something to be treasured by well-worn hearts and terrible regrets, something fragile yet powerful that thrums in their veins, keeps them going.

 

                “…Thanks, Gabriel.”

 

                “…Yeah.”

 

                And, for now, all is well.


	10. Combo Breaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Jesse thinks he's too clever for his own good. And Genji agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just had an idea whilst walking to work, and it never left, so here XD. Didn't come out as funny as I would like, but meh. I like this series and I want to come back to it whenever the mood strikes. Hope you guys will enjoy this :DDDD

* * *

 

                “So…” Jesse prompts, looking uncertain.

 

                Beside him, Genji sweats loudly. If he could still sweat, that is.

 

                They both stare at the gaping hole that used to be Hanzo’s room’s wall. And not just any wall. It happens to be the one wall that Hanzo hoards all his “treasures”, aptly called so due to the value of all the nick-knacks he has collected from action houses all over the world. Jesse is pretty sure these “treasures” are lying somewhere under the rubbles.

 

                If they are still somehow intact.

 

                He and Genji share a glance.

 

                “He’s not going to like this.”

 

                _“Y’ think?!”_

 

                It has started out innocently enough. And by innocent Jesse meant them trying to think of the coolest combo moves. Jesse is pretty sure it has involved his Flashbang and Genji’s Dragon Strike. The result has been a lot of sparks and gleeful, border lining manic but still totally manly, _giggles_.

 

                And of course that collapsed wall.

 

                Of all the years being chased across the world, battling through a torrent of killer robots, having the biggest bounty known to men on his head, and staring down death in the face on a constant basis, Jesse has never felt his demise _this close_. Or ever has he been this scared _oh-my-god-my-ass-is-toasted-he’s-gonna-murder-me_ shitless.

 

                “Yep.” He concludes, rather deflated, “We’re dead.”

 

                There is a sudden spark in Genji’s cybernetic eyes, one that Jesse _really doesn’t like_ , “Not if he doesn’t find out.”

 

                Jesse flails, looking wild, “Are you mad??? He’s gonna be home t’morrow! What’re we gonna do?! Drug th’ guy???”

 

                Let’s just say it is _difficult_ to read Genji’s _expression_ s. Yeah, let’s just go with that. And Jesse doesn’t like _that_ either. But the cyborg never got to say what is in his mind. With all their reflexes and well-honed instincts, neither manages to react properly to the set of footsteps rounding the corner.

 

                “What the _fuck_ happened here!?!?””

 

                Beside him, Genji’s shoulders sag with a comical wheeze. All Jesse could do is aiming a sheepish, anxious grin at Gabriel Reyes (who is definitely trying to decide whether her should be angry or amused, and so settles for a half-way affronted expression instead), whilst Jack Morrison is cautiously sniffing the air. It would have been hilarious, if Jesse himself isn’t in deep shit.

 

                “Uh…surprise?”

 

                Of course, after a long-winded explanation, Gabriel’s first reaction has been punching both of them in the heads. Though slightly disoriented, Jesse has to wonder which one hurts more, Genji’s helmet or Gabriel’s hand after the hit.

 

                Damn, he really needs to work on his priorities…

 

                Well, at least all the time during Blackwatch era got them used to Gabriel’s yelling. Jack, however, is more worrisome. Jesse glances at the ex-Commander nervously, whose blind face tilts towards the giant hole, betraying no emotion.

 

                Just as Gabriel inhales another lungful to scream at them, Jack suddenly cuts in, making his husband chokes on his own spit out of surprise.

 

                “So how are we going to fix this?”

 

                Gabriel whips around so fast, Jesse thinks his neck might have dislocated. But then again, the cowboy is just as shocked.

 

                “ _We?!?_ ” Reaper gawks at Jack, his voice gaining a weird pitch as he gestures at the two idiots, “Jack, I know you can’t see but they collapsed half of the second floor wall!”

 

                Genji raises a finger, “That’s a bit of a stretch, it’s only Hanzo’s-…“Gabriel’s glare withers him at the spot, “…sorry. Sir.”

 

                Morrison, to his credits, doesn’t faze, “Yes, _we,_ Gabe.” Turning to his husband with a quirked up brow, “I don’t know about you, but I can do without Hanzo trying to murder his own teammates for a while. Besides, bleach gives me headaches.”

 

                The corner of Gabriel’s eye visibly twitches, his mouth ajar as he tries, and fails, to come up with a response. Jesse can’t blame the guy. He actually is mirroring Gabriel’s reaction. Jack generously gives them a whole twenty seconds to come up with an adequate answer. His hands’ crisp clasp almost makes Jesse jump out of his own skin.

 

                “Good. Lena, Zenyatta and Hana should be back in a couple of hours. They won’t be difficult to convince, though I don’t doubt you will need some form of bribery with Ms. Song. Since their mission will take at least another five days, we don’t have to worry about Angela, Reinhardt and Torbjorn. As Winston and Lucio are with Hanzo, it will be easy for me to stall them for at least half a day or so. I am sure there are plenty of children or puppies to save on the way.”

 

                In all honesty, Jesse couldn’t catch most of that. He is still trying hard to process that Jack Morrison, ex-Golden Boy and ex-Strike Commander, the toughest rule-stickler back in the day, is willing to get his and Genji’s asses out of this shit. Not to mention mapping out an entire elaborate scheme for it too!

 

                Jesse pinches himself. With his metal arm. Ends up biting the insides of his mouth when his skin breaks. Yep, definitely _not_ dreaming.

 

                At least for his own consolation, Gabriel seems to have just as much as a hard time believing all of this.

 

                Jack is right, but of course he is. There hasn’t been a second of hesitation from Lena to help, though Hana demands a two month supply of Rikimaru’s finest and that they do her homework for the rest of school year. Like Genji, Zenyatta has been _a little_ difficult to read. The way he quietly picks up Apricot and floats back to his room is frankly worrying, but Genji assures Jesse that it simply means the monk omnic would stay out of this whole business.

 

                For his part, Jack manages to pull up something fishy Viskhar has a hand into, which conveniently involves some animal shelters being demolished for one or another corporative reason. Lucio, that poor, pure child, immediately drags both Hanzo and Winston off on his crusade. In hindsight, Jesse feels kinda bad, using innocent abandoned puppies to his own gain, but hey, a man’s gotta live.

 

                Other than that, Jesse still isn’t sure why Gabriel goes along with any of this. Either the big, bad Reaper is way more whipped than they think, or he still hasn’t gotten over the initial shock. Whatever the case, it benefits Jesse, and he isn’t going to argue with that.

 

                Rebuilding hasn’t taken all that long, considering all the shit each and all of them can pull off. Plus, Hana’s Meka does most of the heavy lifting. The hardest part has been digging out all of Hanzo’s precious ju- _treasures_ out of the rubbles. Considering the time limit, they manage an exceptional job. There might be a few things out of place, but Jesse can simply take the blame for it. Nothing a little trick of “oh, you were out of town and I miss you so I moved myself in your room” can’t solve.

 

                Right?

 

                “Something’s not quite right.”

 

                Jesse sweats. Loudly.

 

                “Eh-heh…I might’ve touched a few things…”

 

                There is something in Hanzo’s eyes that makes Jesse want to run for the hills.

 

                “You and Genji did something stupid, didn’t you?”

 

                In the end, all the work they have done is for naught, and Hanamura needs yet _another_ renovation, for the _third time_ since they moved here. To make matters worse, Jesse finally figures out just why Jack has been so willing to help them. All the missions scheduled for Jack and Gabriel within the next five months have been crossed out and replaced by Jesse and Genji instead. When asked, a tired Winston simply shrugs.

 

                “Jack said you two have a prior agreement due to a favour he did for you.”

 

                Two peas in a pod. No wonder Reyes is so head over heels for that asshole.

**Author's Note:**

> Visit my tumblr for more Blizz trash: [Nei Karasu](http://neikarasu.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ./go cry in a corner


End file.
